


plant your heart in community gardens

by greeksalad



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Beauregard Lionett, Background Nott (Critical Role), Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Sleepy Cuddles, Xhorhouse (Critical Role), i've literally never proofread anything in my life and you can tell, just two boys being soft, pretty ambiguous timeline tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22189111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeksalad/pseuds/greeksalad
Summary: Carefully, Fjord tugged at the strip of leather holding back Caleb’s hair until it came away, spilling auburn strands across his shoulders, and gently carded his fingers through his hair once, twice, three times. “Stay the night?” he asked, his words more of a low rumble than anything actually intelligible.Caleb pulled away just far enough to meet Fjord’s gaze. Stretching up a freckled hand to cup his cheek, he stroked the calloused pad of his thumb along the line of his jaw, then brushed over the faint curve of his tusk through his lip, pressing down lightly, just enough to feel Fjord shiver. “Of course,” he murmured, and then swayed up onto his toes to kiss him softly.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 9
Kudos: 181





	plant your heart in community gardens

The floorboards were cold beneath Caleb’s bare feet.

It was dark outside – though, to be fair, it was always dark in Rosohna, but according to Caleb’s internal clock, it was 11:23 at night – and the dark floors of the Xhorhaus were striped with silver with the faint starlight that trickled in through the gaps in the shuttered windows and pooled onto the wood. 

Caleb tugged his blanket up higher around his shoulders so that it wasn’t dragging behind him, his footsteps quickening as he hung a right and came to a halt in front of a familiar wooden door. He paused for a moment, tracing the tiny Captain Tusktooth symbol carved into the side of the doorframe with a fond, if a little exasperated, smile, before knocking gently.

There was a dull thump, like someone inside had tripped over a piece of furniture, and then muffled swearing from behind the door. Caleb opened the door, now concerned (and a little curious), to see Fjord sheepishly standing before him, one hand extended as if to turn the doorknob and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He was out of his armour, which was a fairly uncommon sight these days, now just wearing a time-worn grey tunic and loose trousers.

“Stubbed my toe,” he said by way of explanation, his expression softening into a sweet, wide smile that showed a teasing hint of tusk.

Caleb, his heart already warm and gooey at the sight of him, took a step forward, closed the door softly behind him and practically collapsed onto Fjord, resting his head against his broad chest and letting the blanket drape forward to encompass both of them. “Hallo,” he mumbled, hiding his smile in Fjord’s shirt. “I missed you.”

“You saw me all day,” Fjord teased, the words rumbling through his chest and into Caleb’s. He rested his chin on top of Caleb’s head, and Caleb let out a contented sigh.

“Do not play coy with me, mister. You know what I mean,” Caleb huffed fondly. He tucked his cheek against the soft fabric of Fjord’s shirt and squeezed him just a little bit tighter, letting the comfortingly familiar smells of sea breeze and leather fill his senses.

“Yeah,” he said, pressing his lips to Caleb’s hair and breathing out a quiet laugh. “I know what you mean.” They’d had discussions about privacy early on in their relationship and Fjord had been more than happy to respect Caleb’s request to not let the rest of the group know that they were together just yet. Not telling the rest of the Mighty Nein about them certainly had its perks (namely, Jester’s intrusive questions and lewd eyebrow wriggles, as well as Nott’s inevitable shovel talk), but sometimes, it would be nice to openly hold his boyfriend’s hand, instead of hiding it under the dining table, or be able to kiss him whenever he felt like it.

Carefully, Fjord tugged at the strip of leather holding back Caleb’s hair until it came away, spilling auburn strands across his shoulders, and gently carded his fingers through his hair once, twice, three times. “Stay the night?” he asked, his words more of a low rumble than anything actually intelligible. 

Caleb pulled away just far enough to meet Fjord’s gaze. Stretching up a freckled hand to cup his cheek, he stroked the calloused pad of his thumb along the line of his jaw, then brushed over the faint curve of his tusk through his lip, pressing down lightly, just enough to feel Fjord shiver. “Of course,” he murmured, and then swayed up onto his toes to kiss him softly.

Fjord’s hands, hot as a brand even through Caleb’s tunic, tightened slightly around his waist as he moved to pull back, keeping him there long enough to press one last fleeting kiss to his lips.

“Cheeky,” Caleb said reproachfully, eyes glinting amber in the lanternlight, light and playful and relaxed, a sight that Fjord always treasured because it was so incredibly rare, before stepping around Fjord to climb into his bed, still bundled up in the blanket.

Fjord was quick to follow, inelegantly shucking his trousers so he was left in his shirt and smallclothes and diving belly-first onto the bed, making it rock dangerously. Caleb let out a genuine, loud laugh, then slapped a hand over his mouth, suddenly very conscious of Beau and Jester being in the next room.

After some careful manoeuvring and hastily-muffled laughter (and more than a few stolen kisses), they ended up with Caleb’s blanket tucked around their hips, Fjord flat on his back and Caleb’s head resting on his chest, one leg thrown over Fjord’s thigh and his hand splayed over his abdomen.

Fjord was carding his fingers through Caleb’s hair, being extremely mindful of his claws. It was a sure-fire way to get Caleb to fall asleep, and, sure enough, within minutes he was making tiny sleepy noises against Fjord’s chest. When Caleb’s hand flexed and then curled into a loose fist in Fjord’s shirt, a low, contented rumble kicked up in his chest, quickly becoming a full-on purr.

Caleb mumbled something into Fjord’s collarbone. 

“Hmm?”

Fjord could feel Caleb’s lips curling into a smile against his skin. With considerable effort, Caleb lifted his head, blue eyes blinking amusedly at Fjord. “I said, you are just like Frumpkin.”

Fjord flushed with embarrassment and screwed his face up. Caleb laughed quietly, low and already weighed down with sleep, and poked his cheek. “It is cute. You are cute.”  
By the time Fjord had come up with something to say to that, Caleb had already fallen asleep.

Caleb woke up curled around something warm. Sighing happily, he snuggled in closer, nosing closer to the source of the warmth. Someone was playing with his hair, and it felt so good that he tried his best to melt even further against the long line of heat at his front.

The warmth let out an amused huff that vibrated satisfyingly through Caleb’s chest, but the hand in his hair stilled. Caleb grumbled unhappily.

“Caleb,” the warmth said in a low, honeyed drawl, sounding fondly exasperated. 

Still mumbling his discontent into the warm skin under his lips, Caleb unwillingly dragged himself to consciousness and blinked his eyes open blearily to see that he’d somehow managed to fully wrap himself around Fjord’s body, octopus-style, with his face pressed into the gap between Fjord’s neck and shoulder. 

Fjord was staring down at him with a slightly dopey smile on his face, his hair all mussed from sleep and a little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Caleb thought he looked beautiful.

Fjord craned his neck awkwardly to press a lingering kiss to the top of his head, letting them exist in the comfortable quiet of the morning for just a moment, before murmuring, “You need to get up, Cay.”

Mutely, Caleb shook his head, lips brushing against Fjord’s warm skin. Fjord always ran like a furnace, and this morning was no exception. 

“Caleb,” Fjord said, half laughing, half exasperated. “The others will be up soon.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, and suddenly found himself realising that he actually meant it. He couldn’t care less if the others found out; he hadn’t felt this right in well over a decade. He was tired of hiding, tired of having to resist the urge to hug Fjord in the middle of the kitchen because of his anxiety. Sure, they would have to deal with relentless teasing and endless questions for a while, but he knew, with the bone-deep certainty that only comes with the clarity of a peaceful early morning, that, in the end, it would all be fine. 

Caleb untangled himself from Fjord as best he could and sat up slightly, planting a hand on Fjord’s chest to brace himself as he leaned over him. “I don’t care,” he repeated, gently tracing Fjord’s cheekbone with the tip of his finger. His accent, thickened by the early hour, curled sweetly around the words, turning them into something almost tangible. “I do not care if they know, Fjord.”

A small frown creased Fjord’s brow. Caleb wanted to smooth it away with his lips. “Are you sure?” Fjord asked finally, one hand coming up to loosely cover Caleb’s, his thumb moving in soothing, repetitive strokes across his wrist. “You won’t regret this later on?”

“Only when Jester starts asking about our sex life,” Caleb teased, finally giving in to the urge to lean in and brush his lips over Fjord’s. He felt Fjord’s lips curve into a slow smile beneath his, his tusk catching slightly on his lower lip as he pulled away. Caleb’s breath hitched in his throat. “I swear I am okay with this, Fjord,” he added, a little more serious this time. “As long as you are, too, ja?”

“I’m very okay with that,” Fjord said, and tugged Caleb down to kiss him again. Caleb grinned as that purr started up in his chest again. “Shut up,” Fjord mumbled, sounding caught between embarrassment and amusement.

They were still lazing in bed, both of them resting on their sides with Caleb’s head pillowed on Fjord’s pectoral while Fjord traced lazy, spiralling patterns along Caleb’s spine, quietly marvelling at the juxtaposition between Caleb’s pale, freckled skin and Fjord’s green, when the knocking began. 

“Fjord! Caduceus made bacon; get your lazy ass up or Nott n’ I’ll eat it all!”

Caleb snorted quietly. Fjord flicked the back of his neck in retaliation.

When there was no response, the banging started up again, this time even louder. “Fjord! Are you dead?” Beau yelled. 

A second voice spoke up, a little quieter but unmistakeably Nott’s. “I don’t think he’d reply if he was dead.”

Beau, this time not as loud: “Oh, yeah. Good point.” Then, louder, “I’m coming in! God, please don’t be naked.”

Fjord just barely had enough time to squeeze Caleb’s waist reassuringly before the door crashed open, revealing Beau and Nott, the latter of whom, despite it being nowhere near noon yet, already had her flask in hand.

For a moment, the four of them stared at each other. 

A second of shocked silence passed. Beau’s face cycled through a series of at least seven different emotions, before finally settling on horror.

Nott let out an unearthly scream. 

“What the FU-“

“Ewww.”

“-in bed with him of all people-“

“Too much skin, nope, nope, I’m out-“

“-thought you had better judgement-“

“Well,” Caleb said, turning to hide his face in Fjord’s shoulder, his cheeks already bright red, “I enjoyed it while it lasted.”

Fjord just laughed, long and joyful, and, placing two fingers under Caleb’s chin, gently tilted his head up so he could kiss him, flipping the other two off the whole time.


End file.
